Eye's like Alcohol
by R.M.Taluth
Summary: Cause guess what! Cana Alberona is writing a poem. And she needs all the help she can get. Round two for Litashe's Writing Challenge. Slight hint of romance. T for Language.


**For Round Two of Litashe's Writing Challenge! And I meant to have this done ages ago until bam! Writers block. School was a bh and now I'm devoting all my time to my studies. But I've finally gotten something quick down and can only say that Cana and Macao were the couple I had the most trouble with ever. **

**Writers block also meant progress on other fics was put on hold, including Double Cross, but today I just sat down and got about 8 pages written for that and the stuff I've written for this round. I think I'm cured, although it could be too soon to say that XD**

**If anyone watches Black Adder goes fourth or Father Ted, you'll probably like Cana's poem. Just replace Boom, boom, boom with beer, beer, beer. And drink! stays as it is. And for artistic license, Cana's eyes are golden.**

**Just to add, some of Cana's views on poetry are entirely what she thinks, not my own thoughts. I love poetry, this is just what I feel Cana feels about it. Sorry for the bad language as well!**

**Hope you like this anyway, even though it probably isn't that good. Enjoy~**

The pen fell with a clatter, the noise of it's impact lost to the typically noisy guild. With a weary groan she heaved herself off from the chair and crawled under the table. It should be easy to find the pen, it was bright toxic green and such a colour could poke you in the eye if you weren't careful and glanced at it occasionally with peripheral vision. Yes, it was that vibrant.

She sometimes used it as a weapon against Natsu or Gray, finding strange but sadistic pleasure when they flinched at the horribly bright colour. Or else she used it to see whether green worked better with Natsu's pink hair or Lucy's blonde locks when she was stuck picking out bras. The only other significant thing about this pen was it had a little plastic card attached to a spring on top of the clicker that wobbled constantly. The card itself had red hearts engraved onto it. She'd long ago forgotten who had given it to her.

Otherwise she could do without the pen. And to be honest, her crouching down and frantically searching for this one eyesore of a pen, with her backside wiggling in the air for anyone to see and casually observe (and she also had to note she was wearing a _really_ low cut top which meant if men didn't get a good enough view of her backside then her front was enough for their hormone ridden bodies) was bound to cause trouble. She couldn't care, she had to find that pen and she's buggered if she failed to even do that!

Cause guess what, Cana Alberona is writing a poem!

The alcohol rehab centre of Magnolia nearly had a heart attack when she re-admitted herself. After all, in her last ditch attempt to cut down on drinking she had caused a binge drinking riot and half the centre was burnt down. She had explained to the police again and again how it wasn't her fault, how she had simply accepted a dare against this 40 something biker who had been rather rude to her because A) she was from Fairy Tail B) she was a woman and C) she was a woman who didn't look like she could manage a glass of champagne. Then someone had gotten the vodka shots out (that had been sneaked in against the rules by the Biker's cronies) and everything went down hill from there.

_Man_, that had been a good day.

She could have gotten away with it… except she was drunk and tried to snog one of the officers that may or may not have looked like Macao or something like that. Also she was Fairy Tail, it was one of those unfortunate drawbacks of belong to a guild that was notorious for destruction, mischief and mayhem.

Guild master still hasn't forgiven her for that little incident, and when she had announced to him she was going back she had to sign a contract that disclaimed all property damage to be paid by the guild master.

Romeo had great fun learning how to make a paper airplane with the contract that she had oh so accidentally handed to him.

Anyway, the new therapist wanted to get to know her charges. And since she had a fancy assed Psychology with English degree they were forced to do… poetry.

Topic: the things you love. And you _could not_ write about alcohol. Or smoking. Or even glue sniffing- although _why_ that one came up was beyond her. She had never even _tried _drugs in her life!

Although there was this one time when she was 17 and Wakaba and Macao had a bag of white powder… but that still doesn't apply, teenagers were _allowed_ to experiment after all!

But poetry! All about feelings and whimsy and pointless thoughts- words should be used to communicate and slurred with, not written down with fancy techniques and cooed over by some woman in aprons.

She didn't even _want_ to write this, but if she was to get out of alcohol rehab she was damned if she didn't get anything else down!

So far… her progress shall we say, was not hopeful.

_Beer, beer, beer._

_Guzzle. guzzle, guzzle._

_The room'sh shpinnin'._

_Tastes like ssshit._

_Dizzy gotta get this party on._

_Drink! Drink! Drink!_

_Get me my drink!_

Her father took one look at it and hadn't been able to stop laughing ever since. Just one look at her, hunched over the bar in her misery with that infernal piece of paper that would not burst into flames however much she glared at it, sent him into hysterical cackling that made many think he had become clinically insane.

She had asked him (begged actually) for help but:

"It's your homework, parents shouldn't be doing their kid's homework for them!" he had barely managed before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.

Fat lot of help he was. Also her original had gone missing for a few days only for it to turn up taped on her father's fridge door when she had come over to visit once.

He nearly lost his remaining limbs for that and the so called "Daddy's girl's first homework" never left her person. It took her all the strength and cost all her pride to even ask _him_ for help. He had been her last plea for help.

And she had _pleaded_ for help. Oh how she had _begged_ on her knees and _threatened _with unfortunate futures with her cards and _cursed _her unhelpful guild mates to hell. But even with Lucy's advise (hesitant at first but when she got going she was like a bubbling stream or knowledge and creative license that she could easily steal) she had gotten no where. The information she had collected from everyone she'd asked might as well have built a big assed bridge and purposely avoided her ear to shoot over her drunken head.

"Well that's something new." An amused, if sarcastic, voice came from above just as her fingers closed over the mischievous pen. Shocked, she straightened up only to have her head banging hard against the underside of the table. She saw stars and little toxic green cards floating around her head. No pink elephants so unfortunately she couldn't blame alcohol for her clumsy accident.

"What the fuck do you want?" She replied hotly, crawling back out and nursing her head. She could already feel a bump forming.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Macao retorted with a grin. Romeo mustn't be at the guild if he was able to swear like that.

"Getting my pen." She replied, heaving up to the seat again.

"You writing something?"

"Maybe. Stupid woman at rehab thought it'd be a good way to get inside our minds. Bitch."

Macao laughed. "What does she want you to write exactly?"

"None of your business!" She snorted, grabbing the beer in his hand and lifting it to her lips, feeling slightly giddy as she registered the fact that this may be an indirect kiss…

"It's the poetry isn't it?" Macao asked gleefully. Cana almost spit the beer back out.

"How the hell did you know?" She asked, shocked.

"Gildart's has been telling the entire guild, there isn't anyone in Magnolia any more who _hasn't_ heard of it." He told her, a smirk on his handsome face as he leant casually on the bar. "How did it go again? Beer, beer beer-"

"Shut up! I'm so gonna KILL him when I get my hands on him."

"Your fault, you're the one who told him he was your dad, that sort of thing just asks for parental meddling." He chuckled.

Cana smiled, remembering that day. But she snorted. "I now respect and admire your son for putting up with all your parenting crap. How he turned out to be a good kid is beyond me."

"Hey! I am a very good influence on my kid!"

"Says who?" She shot back, laughing at his frozen face as he struggled to come up with an answer.

"So, you still stuck on poetry?"

"Yep. So you can leave while I figure this out, _alone_."

"Ouch, you wound me. And just when this turned out to be your lucky day." He smirked, leaning close to her as if he was planning some sort of conspiracy.

"What the hell are you on about?" she asked, sending him a glare.

"I just so happen to be a master at poetry."

She then fell of her seat laughing, effectively bruising his ego until had to resist the urge to run to a corner to nurse it.

"What's so funny?" Although he already knew the answer.

"You? Poetry? I'm sorry, but with the amount of slurring you can do with only a glass of vodka, you'd be every low on my list of people who have master of the English language." She chortled.

He shrugged, grinning slightly as he didn't disagree with her.

"Ok that maybe true. But how else did I get all those girls to go out with me?" That sobered her up rather quickly. Like she needed another reminder of all those sluts who would approach him.

"Oh really?"

"Hell yeah."

"Go on then hot shot." she pushed the pen and paper to him. "Write about something you love. Go on, get with it!"

"What, now? But I need to have something or someone as a muse-"

"If you were a 'master of poetry' you would need one." She smirked at him. The challenge was turning around in his mind for a while before he glanced at her. Then it was as if a light bulb popped into life on his head.

"Winner gets last barrel of rum Mirajane has been saving for special occasions?"

That got Cana's interest. "There's a barrel of rum and _I_ didn't know about it? Ok then, you got yourself a deal! Wait, how are we going to judge who wins?"

"Easy." He grinned. "I am going to make you giggle like a pretty maiden with my amazing powers."

Cana snorted. The bet was in the bag. No way was that ever going to happen. Might have when she was younger, but not when she was a grown woman and more or less impervious to those things.

Before she knew it he had snatched her pen and was jotting down words and stanzas in a blink of an eye. Why the hell hadn't she come to him before, she could have forced him to write her stupid assignment ages ago and not have another worry!

And then Macao had turned towards her and he was reading the words out.

And the world sort of fell away as she listened to his husky voice recite the words he had crafted.

When he finished, she could help but chuckle.

"What?"

"You- you compared the girl's eyes… to beer?" She laughed incredulously. A funny smirk was spreading across his lips but he instead adopted an offended look.

"Hey! Some woman love the fact that men would get intoxicated by the woman's beauty!"

She chuckled again. "Pfft, yeah like a girl would like to have her eye's making everyone drunk, that's just SO romantic!"

"Well, it's what I've always loved about your eyes."

She froze. Her heart started to patter, frantic and, dare she say, hopeful.

Did he really mean…? Love, as in he loved h-

"I won that bet by the way." He interrupted her thoughts jovially. That brought her crashing down to earth.

"What? How?"

"You giggled about the eyes like beer thing!""No I didn't!"

"Yes, you so did!" He replied gleefully. "Mirajane, I have a bet to collect!"

"CRAP!" Cana howled with horror, slamming her head onto the table while Mirajane groaned in distress. Beaten by a stupid poem. Damn that man!

"Told you, I am the Master." Macao said pompously, getting up his chair, preparing to leave.

She remained in her seat, wallowing in despair, when he suddenly grabbed her shoulders.

"Come on." He said, dragging her up. "Arent you going to help me with this barrel? It wont empty by itself."

"Why?" She asked, perplexed "You won the bet."

"Yeah," He rolled his eyes. "But I'm not about to drink all this on my own. I need my drinking partner!"

Cana grinned at him.

So what if he said he loved her eyes. Offering her rum and companionship meant a thousand I love you's to her.

The poem was left abandoned on the bar, and Cana couldn't be bothered to turn up at the Rehab centre for the rest of the month.

"I've got your back, mate."

"Good, 'cause I think mine's about to snap. How much does this barrel weigh?"

"Haven't you thought about rolling it on it's side?"

"…You still giggled."

"Cheap shot!"

"No we're only having expensive rum!"

"… do you think Mirajane will allow us to have shots?"

"God I hope so."

* * *

><p>If you happened to stumble across Gildart's house and just so happened to enter his pigsty of a kitchen, you would find on the fridge that poem. With another piece of paper attached to it saying:<p>

_Cana's first love poem._

**I feel like I cheated you all with not writing Macao's poem. Ah well, yo can make up your own and put it in the review XD I'm too tired and stressed out to do much else but get Double Cross typed up. Only half way done with this incredibly long chapter that should be split into two parts. Don't expect any recent posting with that story :)**

**Hope you enjoy this round! And if I don't get through this round, I still have other stories to write. Good luck to everyone else doing the round!**


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